No Matter What
by ChottoMatte
Summary: Sequel to 'Bittersweet.' When Demyx comes back, Zexion is confused but overjoyed. But Demyx has a duty to do- Marry Kairi or crush his family. What will he choose? Rated 't' for 'Teen', splendiferously long.


"WHAT

**No Matter What**

"WHAT?"

"Please, don't act like this Demyx. Be reasonable. She's a very nice girl, I'm sure you'll love her." Demyx's mother said earnestly, her eyes pleading him to calm down.

"But to **marry** her? I don't even know her." Demyx was furious. No way was he letting his parents do this to him. He couldn't do this to Zexion. So what if his parents had found him the 'perfect girl.' He'd found his 'perfect guy' already. Sort of. "Listen, I don't care how nice of a girl this 'Kairi' chick is, I'm not marrying her. End of story. Goodbye." He stood quickly, spindly café chair nearly toppling with the force with which it was sent backward. "I'll see you at home."

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Zexion absentmindedly twirled his hair around his finger, humming the theme song to the newest James Bond movie and taking long drinks from the bottle in his hand. He and Sora had been out since midnight, touring the various upscale bars, and later, the seedy gay clubs of their home town. Zexion left the brunette attached at the lips with one certain silver-haired manager in the last of the hangouts, grabbed a bottle of whisky from a disapproving, matronly old sales-clerk at the local grocery store, and proceeded to get smashed. He'd done this increasingly frequently over the year since Demyx had left, until every weekend was just an excuse to get wasted and forget. He hiccupped as he meandered down the narrow road, and fumbled to pull out his house key. He'd moved out of his Family Home, all the better to get away from pesky memories, and bought himself a swanky apartment in the hipper, newer part of town. He stumbled up the stairs and into his bedroom, kicking off his old Converse and flopping onto his fluffy down comforter. He carefully stashed the now-empty bottle of liquor under his bed and stripped. He needed a shower, a nice, long, hot one.

He sunk onto the floor of the shower stall, the opaque walls misting with steam while he soaked. He hated how drinking made him feel, when he got home, and alone. He was a sad drunk, kind of like a puppy when you kick it. His salty tears mingled with the hot water, running down his cheeks, but he didn't know why. He'd accepted that Demyx would never come back, right? He knew it. He understood it, even thanked the blonde for it. He pulled himself off the floor, shampooed his hair, and stepped into the cold air. The chill was sobering, and he began to think clearly, rationally. Maybe he wasn't over him. But that was alright. He threw on his pajamas bottoms, fuzzy brown and blue flannels, and flicked on the television. He worked quietly through his nightly ritual, closing the blinds and dimming the lights, before crawling in between his silky white sheets and crying himself to sleep, just like every night.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

He woke up with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his head that soon turned to stabbing pain as he opened his puffy little red eyes. He groaned, rolled over, and promptly fell off his bed, landing in a heap of blankets and pillows that he'd kicked off in the night. He crawled slowly to his nightstand and pulled on his glasses. Sure, he had contacts, but who wants to shove bits of plastic into their eyes after a rough night? Nobody does. It was only 6:30am, which accounted for the bleary, sleepy feeling, but he decided to get up anyway. He dragged himself into the kitchen, fighting through the legion of crusty old dishes to find a semi-clean mug and make himself some coffee, Three cups and 2 Advil later, he was feeling considerably brighter. He'd just settled himself at the kitchen table with a bagel and yet another cup of that addictive coffee when he heard a disturbing crashing noise coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the hall outside his front door. He stood warily, eyeing the door carefully, ensuring this was just a clumsy ne'er-do-well and not an invasion of zombies. He tiptoed gingerly over the debris littering the floor, skirting empty take-out boxes and ancient bowls of who-knows-what as he went to answer the door. Standing there, at 6:45am, carrying a suitcase and toting a backpack. Demyx.

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Zexion closed the door as quickly as he'd opened it, and sank to the floor with his back braced against the wall. He breathes deeply, holding back tears. He stood again in a moment, brushing the dust from his pants. He opened the door again. "Come in, come in. Make yourself at home." He cleared a careful path through the filth, pushing it into corners and heaps. He pulled another chair up to the table and plunked down another mug, filling it with coffee. Demyx looked awed. Zexion just sighed.

"Don't bother saying anything. You don't have to drink it. I know you don't like to, sometimes. I know this is just another hallucination. That psychiatrist told me the pills might do this…I suppose you already know that." Zexion laughed as he sat his own mug down. "You're better looking than a lot of my hallucinatory Demyx clones are. Quieter, too. Though none of them ever came with luggage before."

Demyx stirred sugar, and lots of it, into his coffee, too scared to say anything. He listened demurely as Zexion kept ranting, watching the bluenette's eyes fill with tears and overflow. "Why did you leave, Dem? I know, I know, it was for the best, but why did it have to _suck_ so much?" Demyx stood silently, carrying both of their cups to the sink, and turned back to the table. He grabbed the bluenette by the shoulders, spun him around, and kissed him, the way he'd wanted to for a year now.

He murmured as he pulled away- "I'm here. I'm real." Zexion looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and wet. "I missed you."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

They woke up together, mid-afternoon, under a blanket and snuggled up on Zexion's couch. After a few more kisses, a few discreet caresses, the pair propped themselves upright and discussed.

"I'm so…glad you're here…" Zexion whispered as he snuggled his head into the crook of Demyx's neck. "What made you decide to come back? Did you really miss me that much?" A devilish sparkle flickered into the bluenette's eyes, which were the brightest they'd been in oh, maybe a year? "I told you I love you, didn't I?" Demyx snickered as Zexion nuzzled his collarbone, shaking his head no. The blonde pulled the other boy's head up, pressing their foreheads together. "Really? Just in case—I love you."

An hour later, Demyx broke the comfortable quiet. "My mom wants me to get married. To a girl." Demyx looked at Zexion with tired eyes, a small little smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He continued- "I told her no. Even if she was a guy, and I actually knew her, she wouldn't be you. Mom got mad, really mad…I walked out."

Zexion's eyes had widened to an amazing diameter, jaw dropped a good 6 inches. He mulled it over in his mind, thinking of the best course of action. "You have to call them, you know. Tell them you're here. Tell them why, most of all. I think they'll understand."

"I'll call them in a while, but I want a few days to let everything cool down. I…I'll tell them. I will." He got up slowly, travel-weary bones creaking as he righted himself. He got to work, cleaning the apartment, finding a job, and going out with Zexion, until a month had passed before they knew it. They'd settled into a comfortable pattern, perfect in each other's company. Axel, Demyx's friend, had dropped by with concerned notes from his parents, but Demyx always declined to reply. He'd do it on his own terms, he said, not a moment sooner.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Zexion wheedled him and wore him down as the weeks dragged on. Finally, 3 months into his prolonged stay, he called his mother. After half an hour of his mother shouting 'Oh My GOD!! MY BABY!!' and 'You are in **big** trouble, young man!!' he finally got a word or two in edgewise.

"I'm not coming home. At the risk of sounding juvenile, you can't make me." He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand defiantly on his hip, although his mother couldn't see. He hushed the stream of angry babble that Zexion could hear streaming out of the speaker, interspersed with flavorful curse words and angry-old-lady noises. "Mom, I'm not marrying her and that's final. I don't like…people like her." He finished lamely, not wanting to finally admit he was gay to his own mother. "No, mother, I'm not biased because she's a redhead." He huffed dramatically, "I'm biased because I don't like **girls**, okay? I'm gay."

Zexion could practically hear the gasping intake of breath as Demyx's mom coped with this piece of news. From the look on the blonde's face as he listened to the angry chatter blasting in his ear, she didn't take it well.

After another 15 minutes of screeched threats and teary-voiced promises, Demyx hung up his cell phone and sunk onto the squishy couch. "She wants me home. Tomorrow." He sighed, flopping over to lay his head on Zexion's lap. "I have to go, Zexion, don't I?" He smiled up uncertainly, looking for an answer to his unspoken question.

"Will you come back?"

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

He sent him home with Axel, the day after, backseat of the little red convertible stuffed full of luggage and new souvenirs. He'd debated with him, late into the night, about what to do. Demyx was all for staying with Zexion, explaining to his parents that he was already in love. Zexion argued, insisting that he **had** to go home, his parents would worry themselves sick. They settled on Demyx going home, but only to settle things with his parents, and then he would be back with his lover for good.

Demyx laughed as his hair was blown by the road, losing sight of Zexion as they drove away form the house. He snuggled into the buttery leather of Axel's front seat and hunkered down for the long, long drive home. Humming and fiddling with his cell phone, he sent volley and volley of texts to his love, giggling eagerly whenever he got a witty little reply. He would hate being apart. But he'd be back. He read one last text before drifting to sleep, lulled by the rhythm of wheels on the pavement.

"No matter what, I'll always love you. –Z"

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Zexion got the first call from Demyx, 3 weeks later. He'd been worried, so worried, but had refrained from calling. He didn't know the phone number anyway, he told himself, but he knew he refused to call because he was afraid Demyx had decided to leave again. He'd begun to screen his calls, to make sure that he would be prepared when Demyx finally contacted him.

"Hey Zexion. Sorry it took so long to call." The voice on the other line sounded tired, dead tired, and weary beyond imagination. "I…I've got bad news."

"Yeah?" He replied quickly, eager for any news, good or bad. "Do you have to stay longer or something?

Demyx cleared his throat and hesitated. "Turns out that the family business isn't going too well, I guess. The studio is on the verge of closing. My parents lost their life savings in the big stock market crash, remember that?" He sighed, breath against the receiver making crackly noises in the bluenette's ear. "My mom arranged this marriage…to save the family. If I marry Kairi, my parents can retire, live comfortably. If not…" He trailed off, leaving Zexion with a sad mental image of the quiet, kind Minami parents working themselves to death.

"Oh." Zexion exhaled carefully. "What does that mean…for us?" He paced slowly through the now-clean apartment, worriedly biting his nails and twisting his hair with his finger. He nudged their new cat with his foot and sat on the edge of the couch.

"It means…" Demyx paused, and Zexion could hear him crying in the background. "I can't come back." He covered the receiver with his hand, but Zexion could still hear the loud sobs, the little whimpers. He realized that he, too, had begun to cry, but wouldn't let the blonde hear as he continued. "I've got to get married, Zexion. I mean, they're my parents, I can't just-" He cut off as Zexion heard a door swing open. He could hear the yelling on the other end of the line, catching snatches of 'that _boy_?!' and 'Ma, I happen to _love_ that _boy_' before he was unceremoniously dumped to the dial tone. He hung the phone on it's hook carefully, climbed the stairs, and locked himself in the bathroom. It was time he had another nice, long cry.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

A month passed, then another. Zexion turned to alcohol again, Demyx sunk into a deep depression. His parents tried everything from bribery to psychiatry, but he wouldn't talk, barely ate, and only left the house to go on 'dates' with Kairi. He knew his duty, he'd perform it willingly, but no one said he had to be cordial about it. Kairi understood, as she had her own lover to leave, and the pair got on fairly well. They traded stories about cruel parents, took long walks to vent off steam, and regularly went shopping. Demyx sunk deeper, but willingly helped with wedding plans and catering, picking the cake and finding groomsmen. The week before the wedding he asked Axel, on bended knee, in the middle of a restaurant, to be his best man. The redhead obliged, it being his sister's wedding, but was disconcerted by the offhand way Demyx spoke of the future. Almost as if he didn't intend to live to see it. It frightened him.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

'June 14, the bastard day has come.' Demyx woke at 7:30, to finish the last-minute things and start getting prepared. He wanted to look his best. If it was the last time he'd be seen alive, he wanted to go out with a bang, of course.

He got to the church an hour before even the bride, relishing in the quiet emptiness of it's hallowed halls. He wandered aimlessly for a time, admiring the architecture and decoration, before retreating to the Groom's allotted quarters. He'd told Axel to be there by 10:00, so he'd have another hour to get dressed and all prepared. He had the rings, he had the vows, and he was in charge of making sure the whole operation went off without a hitch.

Who can blame the redhead for showing up early on so momentous an occasion? He'd just wanted to finalize flower arrangements, confirm seating, and tip the priest, so he got there earlier than Demyx instructed. He searched high and low for his little friend, in every nook and cranny where he thought he'd hide. He left the priest to search again and ventured to the groom's quarters. He called out "Demyx…? Dem? Hellooooo?" until he opened the door to the small bathroom. There, amidst a pool of water from an overflowing sink, lay sad little Demyx, eyes closed and breathing so shallow as to be nearly nonexistent. An empty bottle lay by his hand, the few pills remaining had scattered onto the cold tile floor. Axel stopped still, hand gripping the doorframe with crushing force.

"D-Demyx?" He whispered, trying to wake him. He sank to his knees and shook him by the shoulders, when this failed to earn a response he pulled out his cell phone. Before he'd typed '911' and pressed send, he spied a single sheet of paper on the floor next to the unconscious blonde.

_Mom, Dad, Kairi, Axel._

_I'm sorry. I am unbelievably, undeniably, unequivocally sorry. I know what this must do to you. I just…can't deal with this. I don't want to let you down, but If I can't be with who I love most in this world, Is it really worth being in this world at all?_

_I didn't think so, myself._

_Much love, now and always._

_**Demyx.**_

Axel let out the breath he didn't know he'd held and dialed 911 with his cell phone. He'd noticed a special note, for Zexion, but didn't want to open it. Not yet.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Chhzzhhzt "Zex-" Chhhrrrczzzkk

Axel was calling him, for some bizarre reason, with the worst cell phone connection Zexion had ever heard.

"Hello? Axel? Where are you?" Zexion gnawed at his thumbnail, trying to shake the strange feeling of dread he got when he heard the panic in the redhead's voice. He listened patiently for a few moments, eyes going wide at the few snatched bits of conversation that made it through the airwaves. He listened only a second longer, and cut him off. "Is he alright? Where is he??" His voice grew increasingly frantic as he shot questions at Demyx's closest friend, his near-best-man, until he told him what he wanted to know.

"He'll be okay, we think. He's still in the ICU, but he got his stomach pumped and he's asleep. The doctors say that if he makes it through tonight, there's a high chance he'll come out perfectly fi-" But Zexion had already hung up. He was on the way to Demyx.

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He ran through the overcrowded parking lot and practically forced the sliding automatic doors open in his need to get inside, to find out if Demyx was alive, if he was okay. It was a long drive to the hospital in the Minami's home town, and Zexion had forgotten his cell phone at home, so he couldn't call and confirm that his Demyx was still alright. Axel was pacing in the lobby, fire-red hair disheveled. He hadn't even bothered to take off his water-stained suit, and his eyes were red-rimmed and sad. He noticed the frantic man and beckoned him over.

"He woke up." He stated simply, watching Zexion for signs of a reaction. The man looked frantic, eyes darting and hands shaking as he lowered himself carefully into an ugly plastic lobby chair. "His parents are in talking to him now. The doctors said they underestimated his 'will to live.'" He smiled a sad little grin. "Will to live…?" He looked down and laughed. When he looked back up, to make sure Zexion was still sane and rational, he was gone.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

He'd stormed the receptionist, who was used to the whole 'concerned family/friend' routine and gave him Demyx's room number without too much fuss. He climbed the stairs in threes, not wanting to waste time on the elevator. He calmed himself outside the door to the room, not wanting to scare Demyx or his parents. He opened the door, suave and calm. He snuck his head around the corner, so as not to interrupt a poignant family moment, and found himself alone with a haggard, sleeping blonde. He shuffled across the floor silently and looked down at his lover. Small and pale, he looked sick and sad. He bent and kissed him on the forehead, smoothing back sweat-soaked blonde hair and tracing his thumb along his cheekbone. He hummed the song Demyx wrote for him, the first time he'd left, very softly as he climbed onto the bed beside him, snuggled into his arms, and fell asleep, content.

An hour and a half later Demyx's parent walked in, to say goodbye for the night. They'd been assured he'd be perfectly fine, and could go home in a few days, once the psychiatrist checked him out and assured he wouldn't do this again. They decided to spend the night at home and come back before their boy woke up in the morning, but his mother couldn't leave him like this without a last goodnight. They tiptoed in silently, intent in not waking him, and found their precious boy with his arms wrapped around another man. In what could have potentially been his deathbed. His mother's heart stopped for a moment, and her veins froze. A single salty tear slipped down a wrinkled old cheek, not because she was sad, but because her baby was _**smiling. **_He looked blissful, with the short little bluenette pressed up against him. The old couple just looked at each other and sighed. They knew young love when they saw it. If they took them apart again, they didn't know if their little boy could handle it. But it was so _**wrong**_, they debated quietly, men weren't supposed to _**be**_ like this. They whispered fervently back and forth, until they accidentally woke up their son.

Demyx heaved himself into a sitting position carefully, making sure not to dislocate the many cords and tubes poking out of him. He looked down lovingly, brushed the hair from Zexion's face softly, and looked up at his parents.

"I love him." He stated, simple and dead serious. "I can't even think about living without him." He smiled calmly and tilted his head to the side. "I wouldn't _**want**_ to." He yawned once, twice, and pulled the sheet over the sleeping boy's shoulders, making sure he was comfortable. "If you love me, you'll let me love him, Mom, Dad."

His mother looked at him angrily. "Now Demyx, don't think you can talk to us like just because you're an adult. You're still our son and we do _**not **_approve of you two being together. That's final." She looked over at her husband, hoping he'd back her up. She saw him waver, and knew she was on her own with this one. "You just think what the neighbors would say if you were…gay. We'd be ridiculed, laughed out of town."

Demyx chuckled quietly, amazed by the ridiculousness of it all. "Mom, 'If I was gay' doesn't exist. I'm gay. I'm in love. I can't live without Zexion, and I refuse. If you force us apart again…" He looked meaningfully at the hospital room, the tubes in his arm and on his face. "I don't know what I'll do. Something quicker than drugs."

His mother looked at his father sadly. All of the excitement and crying had really taken it out of her, and all she wanted to do was hug her baby and get to sleep. Roxas was already asleep in the backseat of the car, but Mrs. Minami had to have the last word. "I'll always love you Demyx, no matter what gir-" She paused. "…Guy you choose... I'm just happy you're alright. Get some sleep." She slipped out the door and cried quietly in the hall as her husband said his goodbyes to Demyx and the now-awake Zexion. Evidently they explained the last few minute's goings-on, and Zexion scrambled into the hallway.

He looked around frantically until he saw the small figure huddled in a teary ball against the wall directly to his left. He crouched down to where she'd sunk on the floor and magically produced a tissue from the pack he'd taken to carrying. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as the old woman quieted her sobs and mopped her tears. Zexion looked over at her calmly.

"Last time I heard from you, you asked Demyx to stay with me. I'm hoping that still stands." He smiled as she looked up with shock in her eyes. She looked at him, deadly serious.

"I'm willing to let you two live together. But if you _**hurt **_my _**baby**_, you will be killed. Violently." She looked over at him, and her serious face slowly twitched it's way into a smile. "You two were made for each other, weren't you?"

Zexion laughed. "I like to think so."

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

Zexion rented another apartment, more spacious and closer to the thriving college center. He wanted to pursue a degree in literature, maybe become a librarian And, of course, Demyx moved in the week after he got out of the hospital. His big sister and little brother both helped him move his shitloads of stuff into Zexion's increasingly-cramped apartment, and they were finally alone. No parents, no betrothals, no deep, dark secrets left. They were free, free at last. Weird thing was, neither could remember ever being happier. They had their whole lives for this, to be together. They wouldn't waste this, the most precious gift.

Love.

0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

A/N- Yep. A happier sequel to 'Bittersweet.' Forgive me if it isn't as nice as the first, it was considerably harder to write ; I'm a tragedy-whore, what can I say? Once again, all credit for plot and wondrous support goes to crystal.tears.of.fate, the majestic. I'm off my Zemyx kick for a while. I'll finish tango, then I'm gonna take a month off of our favorite couple and rest my fingers. Maybe get some new pronouns. One can only use the words "Zexion, Demyx, blonde, bluenette, happy, emo" to describe two people **so **much, and then you want to rip your fingers off. Love.


End file.
